Something Worth Waiting For
by Lasaravis
Summary: Alex has learned to fight for many things. Love is one of them. AlexFidget. COMPLETE.
1. I

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Author's Notes: Okay, all. For those of you who have read all the different versions, and have oh-so-patiently waited nor the next chapter(s), I thank you, and would like to say one thing: this is the end. I will not be redoing this fic again. It has gotten to the point where I'm utterly resentful of it, but have fiddled with it so much that I've run into a dead end. I've come to realize this will never be my masterpiece, by any stretch of the imagination. I just don't have the muses on my side to make this any better. _So_; this is the Really, Truly, I Am Not Lying This Time Final Version. Really… Enjoy.

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Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Action Man and am no way associated with CORUS entertainment or Mainframe productions.

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Pairings: Alex/Fidget and a smidgon of Rikki/Grinder.

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Warnings: cussing, mild sexual content, mild slash

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Rating: PG-13

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Summary: Alex has had to fight for many things. Love is one of them.

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Feedback: or leave a review.

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CHAPTER 1

ALEX MANN CREPT through the hall; his muscular form half hidden in the shadows. The silence was stifling, enveloping him in the soft pounding of his heart. The echo of his breathing seemed ten times louder then it was in the day, and the coolness of the air around him made goosebumps rise up on the sections of his naked skin. He rubbed his arms, unsuccessfully trying to smooth his flesh, and quietly padded his way past the rest of the bunks, noting the two empty ones. The pair belonged to Grinder and Rikki, who had gone home to their families for Easter, leaving Fidget and himself to fend for themselves for three days.

Alex did a double take, noticing Fidget wasn't in her bunk either. It wasn't usual for the redhead to be up this late. Although she was a light sleeper, Fidget usually slept steadily right until nine. Supposing she was in the bathroom, he passed it off as nothing. Shrugging slightly, he continued his way towards the kitchenette, in hopes of a midnight snack.

Turning the corner, he noticed a faint yellowish light coming from the direction he was headed in. A small figure was already looming over the fridge, it's frame dark, the light being expelled form the icebox casting it's details in a shadow on the carpeted floor. The tell-a-tale clanking of jars and containers, followed by soft cursing confirmed that Fidget had the late-night munchies too.

It was incredible; he mused absent-mindedly, how uncharacteristically ethereal Fidget looked, standing in the pale rays. The soft light made the auburn of her hair glow, shimmering off the edges into a pale gold. Yellow rays smoothed her lithe limbs and played over the slim curve of her hips; flattered her small, high breasts.

He would admit it. He had always found his teammate attractive. She was intelligent, and brave, and was just so... so…_her_. Alex knew he had always wanted her, sometimes so much it ached. But it never was the time, not even now. _Especially_ not now, as she was far from single.

Making possibly the worst, and least thought out, decision in his life, he lurched, inch by inch, forward, towards the back of his team member. Alex cocked his head, the overwhelming want outweighing the consequences. Just one kiss... How could it hurt? They were all _alone_... No one would need to _know_...

Just when he was about two feet from her back, she whirled around.

"Couldn't sleep ea-" Fidget's sentence was cut off as Alex gently pushed his lips onto hers.

It was a million times better then he could have ever imagined. Her lips were soft and tasted like cool peppermint, and he drowned in the moment. Not wanting to break the kiss, he pushed her gently back trapping her between the fridge door and himself.

Suddenly, he was overcome with confusion. Something was wrong.

She wasn't _moving_.

Feeling as if his stomach had just dropped onto the floor, he jerked back ungracefully. Waves of freezing horror rose to his throat, making him almost choke. He hastily took a step backwards, almost falling, his legs weak. His heart sped up, panic kicking in.

Before he knew what was going on, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt with a fist, yanked him forward and captured his mouth in a frantic kiss.

Alex, froze, stunned for a split second. But all thoughts of hesitation were quickly extinguished by the hot confines of her mouth. Frantic and unthinking, he pulled her closer, grinding their hips together. He could feel her raising her arms and clasping them around his neck, clenching her fingers in his hair.

He ran his tongue along the bottom of her lip, asking permission to enter. She obliged, letting his tongue pass through her lips.

The taste of her mouth wasn't sweet, but spicy; woodsmoke and curry and Fidget. He felt as if he could drown in the moisture and warmth of her mouth. He ran his tongue over her pearly teeth and glided it along the top of her palate, and was rewarded by a small moan and her tongue winding around his own. Caught up in the moment, thoughts running half formed through his mind, he slowly placed his left hand under her shirt and slid his hands up her waist. Startlingly, he felt her flinch, and he jerked away in surprise.

He glanced down at her face. Her lips were slightly swollen and her cheeks dark. Her eyes were half-open, and she was giving him a hot, smoldering look from beneath her lashes.

Her lips curved into a smirk. "Your hands are cold," she purred.

The sound of her voice, however, was horrifyingly startling.

He stumbled back letting go of her waist. "Fidget? Oh Jesus! ... I'm sorry... I didn't... I don't know what..." Panic once again rose in his throat, clenching his stomach, making him feel as if he had just swallowed a bucket full of ice water.

He was at a loss of what to do for a few seconds, before instinct kicked in. He needed to get out of there.

Now.

Forcing his legs to move, he whirled around and frantically scrambled out of the kitchenette.

Vaguely he heard, "Alex?" As he dashed down the hall.

He could feel Fidget staring at his back.

"Alex?"

TBC


	2. II

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CHAPTER 2

Alex pall but sprinted down the narrow hall, panic tightening his throat almost to an unbearable level.

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No! Shit! Shit! Shit!

So, he had been tempted in the past. So, he _had_ feelings for Fidget. Big deal. But he _shouldn't_ have acted on them.

But he did.

And the worst part was yet to come, a fact he knew without a doubt; Rikki. Was. Seeing. Fidget.

They had been dating on and off ---or so he guessed, it wasn't like he followed them around asking questions--- for more than a couple of months, and, as far as he could tell, were perfectly in love.

Frantically, he made his way to the bunks and flopped down onto a bottom one that was currently uninhabited, one thought swirling throughout his mind.

Fuck. I'm fucked.

This wasn't right. This couldn't happen. He couldn't betray Rikki like that. Hell, he couldn't betray _Fidget_ like that, either. This wasn't fair to her.

But he loved her. As a friend, firstly, and later as more; he would be devastated if she left. He needed her friendship, her support, even more than he wanted her as a lover. Hell; he couldn't even remember when he had started thinking of her as a woman, and not just a teammate.

A thought suddenly struck him.

What if she tells Rikki?

Oh great. Then he could loose two of his best friends.

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I'm screwed.

Wait a second... what if Fidget did _like_ (the other 'L' word was far too frightening to contemplate, right now) him? What if he had hurt her by walking away like that? She _did_ grab him, after all...

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This situation keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?

But... Could he really give her what she wanted in a relationship? Knowing he was getting _way_ ahead of himself, his quelled his thoughts.

He wanted something, or better yet, _someone_ in his life. One-night-stands didn't count. He had his share of those; all the female fans who couldn't keep their hands off him. They were all pretty, but they couldn't offer him a serious relationship.

But she could.

If she wanted to, that is. Which was highly doubtful after the night's antics.

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What if she does tell Rikki, what'll happen then? Will he forgive me?

The thought was laughable. Forgive him? But... It wasn't like he did this a lot ---act before thinking...

The storm of panic was quieting down now, and he realized how sleepy he truly was. He needed to talk it through with someone. Some one he could trust; someone who understood. And there was only one person who could help; Grinder.

Making his decision, he buried himself underneath the mound of down comforters on Grinder's bed, the familiar scent of his best friend acting as a security blanket. Snuggling down into the heavy material, he laid his head on the pillow and his eyes drooped immediately. He'd think more in the morning and when Grinder came back, he'd talk to him and get his advice...

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Opening his eyes slowly, Alex took in his surroundings. Dim sunlight streamed in through the window, creating a beam of pearly light that fell on red hair and a fair-skinned face, making the owner of the body almost glow.

He hazily mused that she looked much younger in her sleep then she really was. Instead of looking twenty-five, she looked like she was still a teenager. Half of her face was buried against he pillow, her copper lashes fanned out on her cheek. But that full, lovely mouth was barely parted, and the one visible corner was graced with a natural sarcastic curl. For just a moment, he had the sudden irresistible urge to kiss it off.

Then the memory of last night hit him hard, and he was instantly, coldly awake.

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She, however, was not. And Rikki and Grinder wouldn't be back until the afternoon. At least he had time to come up with some sort of plan. What he needed was some time to run over his thoughts, and he knew the best way to do it. Grabbing a pair of loose nylon shorts, a T-shirt and a light jacket, he swung off the bunk.

Forcing himself to resist the urge to sneak one more look at Fidget, he quietly and calmly padded his way down the same hall he had rushed down the night before. Grabbing his running shoes, he headed to the bathroom.

Alex quietly shut the door behind him, the cool, sterile bathroom somehow reassuring. Groaning, he scratched the stubble covering his face absent-mindedly, while casting a critical eye at himself in the mirror.

He looked terrible, to say the least. He had slept heavily enough, but his dreams had been dark and troubled. Didn't shrinks say that when you have problems in your life, they come out in your dreams? He was starting to believe it, after last night. Dark circles outlined his cloudy blue eyes and his hair was a tangled, sweaty mess.

Shivering in the cool morning air as he stripped, he pulled his shorts and T-shirt on, he haphazardly avoided his thoughts on the subject of last night. Thinking of things now would just complicate things later.

Trying to look more awake, he ran his fingers through his dark hair. In a flash, the memory of Fidget's lips pressed to his and her running her fingers through his hair was enough to make him look away from the mirror. Looking down into the reflective steel sink, a hot wave of shame settled in his stomach.

Cursing himself silently, he forced himself to look back into the mirror with renewed determination.

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I'm **going** to sort this out. I **will** find a solution to this. Last night is **not** going to tear this team apart.

Besides, they _needed_ to stay together. They had to stop Dr. X; to keep others safe; to fight. After all, their personal problems were nothing compared to the responsibility they had to the rest of the world.

Right?

Giving his reflection another hard look, he gathered up his sleeping garb and padded back down the hall in his jogging clothes. Slipping the sleepwear into the dirty laundry basket, he glanced at a clock and frowned. 6:37.

Sighing, he walked back out to the main living space of the plane and gingerly opened the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to deal with Fidget this early, he grabbed an extra set of keys. If there was one thing he had learned was that she was _not_ a morning person, and banging on the door in order to wake her up wasn't an option.

He gently stretched; flexing and pulling at the muscles that protested loudly this morning. He had slept in an odd position last night, and could feel himself paying for it.

Jogging had become a routine part of his mornings, the brisk air waking him up far more effectively then anything else. It cooled him to an almost meditative state, giving him time to muse over his thoughts. Which happened to be just what he needed this morning.

Taking off at a slow pace, he let his mind wander back to his camerawoman. Absolutely everything about her was fun and exciting and new.

His love for her, however, didn't come fast and exciting. No, he had oh-so-slowly come to want her, then need her, then love her. In fact, he hadn't even realized he was in love with her for the longest time. His heart had been dormant, just waiting for that _one moment_.

And it had come, seven months ago. It was a climbing competition, and her rope had just _snapped_ like fucking _dental floss_, and he had watched her body almost float to the ground. It was then, as he watched --his ears ringing, his breath frozen in his lungs, his heart silent in his chest-- that he just _knew_.

He had been shocked and frightened and elated all at once --had frozen on the wall. Had _lost_ for the _first time ever_.

His tongue was thick and cotton-dry in his mouth when he visited her in the hospital. Merely a broken leg, the doctors had said. _A miracle she's alive._ And he had just sat there, doing nothing, saying nothing --hell, even _feeling_ nothing, shocked as he was.

But she had healed, and things had gone on as they had before.

Well, almost.

Eventually he had learned to hide the flinch he let out whenever she touched him, or the soft gasp when she smiled _just so_, or the hot flush when she unwittingly shot him an almost-smoldering look. It had been difficult in the beginning, but had just gotten easier and easier. And, well, if she suspected something was wrong, she never said anything.

But… a secret, illogical part of him wished that she would notice; that she would focus all of her attention on him and realize something was _not right_. The simple fact that she _didn't _stung in a way unrequited love only could.

But he couldn't blame Fidget for his hesitance. Many times he had battled with himself, whether to tell her or not. On one hand, he didn't want things to become awkward and testy between the two of them. He had been on the extreme sports circuit long enough to know that teams had split up over love before. One the other, he knew inherently that shoving his feelings deep inside himself could only work for so long.

As he had found out last night.

And Rikki and Fidget always seemed so _happy_ together, all teasing grins and taunting smiles. They had plans for the future, and their own special way to kiss, and she wore his satin pajama pants to bed. Simple. Perfect. Joyous. He hated it.

He had learned to conquer jealousy, too. It was hard, at times, to watch them together --her bossing him around, him twitching nervously-- to resist he urge to glower and snarl.

It had astonished him; his envious fury. He hadn't felt jealous of anyone since he was a child, and that seemed like another life, now. And even then, the hot longing for new shoes, or a good ball, couldn't even begin to approach the searing agony he felt over Fidget.

Letting his thoughts flit back to the present, he picked up his pace a little, spotting a nice-looking park. He contemplated for a minute, before making his way towards the green area.

Doing a full loop on the asphalt was relaxing him. The sun was rising into the clear sky, causing the azure atmosphere to be splashed with different shades of pinks and oranges. There wasn't a cloud in sight, promising the day to be filled with warm weather.

All the way back Alex went over the previous night, mentally highlighting the most important parts for his conversation with a certain Brit he planned on chatting with as soon as he got home. As usual, the short jog had refreshed him, and it was with a far lighter heart that he spotted Big Air.

The lights were on.

She was up.

Suddenly, he had the urgent need to flee. He really, really, _really_ didn't want to face this yet. The renewal he had originally gotten from the exercise drained from his body. Unfortunately, running wasn't an option. Putting on a smile, he gritted his teeth, and braced himself for whatever may come.

With a little more force then was necessary, he opened the door and forced his legs to propel him through it. Walking into Team Extreme's mobile house, his nostrils caught the smell of chocolate pancakes, a specialty of Fidget's.

Taking a deep breath, he walked into the kitchen, ready to face her.

Sure enough, as soon as he walked into the space she whipped around; mouth set into a thin line of determination.

"We need to talk. Now."

TBC


	3. III

CHAPTER 3

Alex's mouth and throat went dry. _Wouldn't it be nice if a big hole opened up under my feet that I could fall into? Or maybe I could wake up right about now. This would definitely be a good time to stop this nightmare._

"You… you're right," he surprised himself by stuttering. "W-we do need to talk."

She frowned slightly, her brow pinching and her mouth thinning. Her eyes glittered dangerously; he had never felt so threatened before in his life. He felt horribly defensive. "Look, Fidge… I'm so, so, sorry…"

Her head then snapped up in a violent movement. "_What's gotten into you?_" She burst out angrily. "I am _not_ going to be one to drool all over you, famous or not! I have no _idea_ what you were thinking last night! Hell, I have no idea what _I_ was thinking last night either, but that _does not_ excuse you from-"

He didn't know what she was going to say next –simply because her sentence was abruptly cut off by the sound of a door slamming shut, and the vague noises of people laughing.

"We're home!" Rikki's high-pitched voice was coldly startling and unexpected. It was almost as if Alex had forgotten he knew Rikki as a brother; sometime in the night he had become a vague, remote idea. Threatening, but in a distant way.

Rikki and Grinder were grinning when they trounced into the kitchen; Alex and Fidget still frozen to the spot. They both looked mussed and happy, but mysteriously guilty. There was an odd _something_ lurking in Grinder's eyes, and Rikki's smile looked fragile beneath its normal nervousness.

They… They couldn't _know_. It was impossible. But Alex sensed intimately, that something was just not right with the two of them. Not obvious, but _there_.

And Fidget was looking at him again, a baffling mix of anger and panic in her eyes. Her lips parted, and just as Alex thought she was about to speak, she turned on her heel, left the pancakes, and stomped off towards the back of the plane.

Well. That temporarily took care of _that._ At least they weren't going to deal with it now.

"What's eating her?" asked Rikki uneasily. He looked disturbed and vaguely ill, but when Grinder laid one large, blunt hand on hi shoulder, he seemed to relax.

"I don't know." It surprised him how easily the lie came to his lips. "I'm going to have a shower," he said to their baffled faces. He didn't wait for a reply before striding off to the bathroom.

There was a hot, shameful relief in his stomach, and it made him feel rather disgusted with himself. Eventually he would have to stop running, he knew. But right now he felt more relieved than guilty.

After a long, hot shower, a shave and clean clothes, Alex was revitalized.

Feeling confident, and as if he were ready to face anything, he traveled down the hall, heading towards the kitchenette, every last part of him praying Fidget wasn't in there. Lucky for him, she wasn't. And nor was anyone else.

Well, he didn't mind, and hummed quietly to himself as he removed a clear plastic cup from a cupboard, and filled it with orange juice from the fridge. Popping a couple of cold pancakes into the toaster, he rummaged though the fridge, fingers questing for jam. He flinched when the pop of the toaster happened unexpectedly, and nearly burnt his fingers taking the hot pancakes out.

Setting his plate and cup onto the stainless steel tabletop, he chewed steadily at a sweet, buttery pancake. Mouth full, he snatched up the paper, browsing the headlines. A fire; a shootout at a seedy hotel; a charity function set to take in millions.

He scanned each article with an intensity he had never employed when reading the paper before, carefully _not_ thinking about anything else. Or _anyone_.

Or the fact that he had completely and utterly fucked up the last conversation with Rikki. If you could even _call_ it a conversation, with all the avoidance issues that had hovered overhead. Alex glared at his plate with a malice it hardly warranted.

At any rate, the past hour had made it perfectly clear to him that maybe he wasn't as knowledgeable about himself or others as he liked to believe. It had become rather obvious that he _didn't_ know what to do.

He scrunched his nose and snorted.

Although he knew he wasn't going to be winning any Nobel prizes, he was at least smart, most of the time. This raging incompetence was rather unlike him, and he wasn't totally sure what was wrong. His thought process was usually much more fluid –Dr. Gray had insisted that it was in part due to the AMP factor. Even now, he had an idea of what to do: the only issue was the ethics of it.

He had to speak to Grinder.

This solution, unfortunately, was a bit complicated. He knew he'd feel guilty if he dragged his best friend into something that had nothing to do with him, but on the other hand, he needed some advice rather badly.

But… Living in such close quarters with others made a bad environment for keeping secrets. Without speaking, they would instinctively know what the other was feeling. Ginder would definitely know: Alex was a little surprised he hadn't spoken to him about what was happening already.

Well. There was no argument then, was there?

TBC


	4. IV

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CHAPTER 4

Rikki opened the door immediately. He was talking into a small cell phone, and the table behind him was covered in papers, stationary supplies and the remnants of breakfast. Rikki flashed a white-toothed smile at Alex, and motioned for him to come in, while navigating behind the large, stainless steel desk.

Forcing his putty-like legs to move, he walked into the small room Rikki had claimed as his office. It had been an unused space, high in the plane, with walls at strange intervals, and an odd shaped ceiling, making it difficult for storage.

Alex eyed the bolted-down chair across from Rikki. Picking up the papers that were resting on the seat and setting them down on the already overly cluttered desk, leaving sweaty, yellow-gray fingerprints on the pristine sheets.

His stomach squirmed uncomfortably, and he sensed that if he had dared to eat breakfast, he probably would have thrown it up by now. In fact, he couldn't remember being so nervous in all his life. Remembering the time he had first competed on live television, millions of people watching –it was the same feeling.

He sunk into the chair, doubting if his knees would have held up any longer anyway. He swallowed hard; his mouth had gone dry again for the second time that day, and the palms of his hands were soaked with sweat. His heart was beating a mile a minute. Normally, he wouldn't be this nervous about talking to someone if he had done something to his girlfriend, (a regular occasion, he was ashamed to admit, as more than one woman had lied to him about being single in order to get into his bed) but this was Rikki. One of his teammates; his best friends. Part of his family.

His family. One of the things he treasured most in the world. What if the event last night cost him his only real family? What if one little screw-up took all he had? His career, his pride and his friends. Gone.

A scary thought, a very scary thought.

He still had no idea how he was going to break it to Rikki. The melodramatic manager was a high-strung, nervous type, but not usually prone to bouts of anger. But everyone had their points, and Alex had no experience in knowing of this was one of them. There had never been a situation like this before.

Taking a deep steadying gasp, he wiped his palms, on his denim-covered thighs. A small click was heard, proving Rikki was done on the phone.

Forcing himself to look up, he evaluated Rikki's friendly, guileless smile, which made his eyes crinkle. "Hey, Alex! What's up?"

"Rikki…" _Deep breaths_. "I need to talk to you."

The manager's dark, soft eyes pinned him to the chair. "I assume that's why you're here." The tone was amused.

The most he could manage was a weak chuckle. "Yeah…" Alex trailed off, his throat dry and his tongue felt like was covered in wallpaper paste. Looking down at his hands, he took a deep breath, "It's about… Fidget."

An ebony eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

Oh god, this was hard. His throat burned and his stomach twisted. He started to run his tongue along his teeth, before biting down on it.

"Yes." Hardly a breath.

Rikki said nothing, and Alex couldn't bring himself to either. The silence spiraled so horribly that Alex wanted to say something. The problem was, he didn't know what.

"Well?" Rikki folded his hands together on the surface between them, intertwining his fingers. There was impatience in the voice now, and the golden-skinned brow was knitted.

He started to shake; a steady trembling, snaking it's way up from his toes and shimmying its way up his spine. Rikki's face seemed to melt into a dark blob, the word whirling and twirling, as seen through his dazed eyes and he bit his bottom lip, while staring off into space. "I… uh…"

"Spit it out, already!" The playful tone wasn't quite enough to hide the annoyed bite to the statement.

Summoning up his courage he took the plunge, "Like I said, it's about Fidget."

Badly hidden irritation, now. "You got that point across already."

Taking yet _another_ deep breath, he looked Rikki in the face, meeting his eyes. _Here goes nothing… and everything_. "Last night, while you and Grinder were--"

"RIKKI!" A distinctly feminine voice, followed by thumping footsteps and a loud banging on the door.

"Speak of the devil," muttered Rikki, half-heartedly.

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Oh no. Oh nnononononono.

Now he was definitely going to be sick.

The door then banged open at that moment, revealing a small, slim woman, with a temper to match her hair. She didn't even spare a glance at Alex, fixing her eyes on Rikki instead. "We need to talk," she said through clenched teeth, her fists balled up at her side. "Now," she added with robust.

Alex took that as a clue that this was about to turn into a battle-field, and leapt up out of his chair, desperately, _desperately_ needing to get out of there. He swung his body out around and caught a glimpse of Fidget out of the corner of his eye. Her eyes were glittering dangerously, her cheeks flushed with anger, and loose strands of her hair hung around her face.

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As wildly beautiful as she looks when she's angry, I don't want to be around for the vocal demonstration that comes with it.

He rose to his feet, then shakily walked over to the door, looking at Fidget, who seemed to have lost her ability to speak, (a first) in her rage, but kept her eyes fixed on the unfortunate manager. He straightened his posture and walked out the door, shutting it behind him with one hand, relived to have made it out in time.

Just before the screaming started, anyway.

Fidget's (or so he naturally assumed) words (once again, an assumption) were distorted by the metal door, and Alex couldn't make any of the conversation out.

Deciding that it was best to wait until the (faux spontaneous) storm passed to talk to Rikki, Alex let out a sigh as he descended the stairs to the affectionately named, 'rumpus room'.

Flopping onto one of the long couches, Alex noted Vinnie lounging on his favorite blanket. Reaching out a hand to pet the team's mascot, in that place just behind his left leg, he let out a sigh.

"Nothing is ever easy."

TBC


	5. V

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CHAPTER 5

When the thump woke him with a jolt, Alex realized he must have dozed off.

He found this strange; he had gotten more than enough sleep the night before, and the immediate stress he was under should have kept him awake. Alex was decidedly thankful, though. He felt rested and strangely relaxed after his nap.

His tongue, however, was glued to the top of his cotton-dry mouth.

Scraping a few strands of dark hair out of his eyes with one hand, he hefted himself off the couch with a supreme effort. Stretching up, he could hear a number of disturbing crackling sounds, and winced. Dropping his hands to his sides, he rolled his head, eyes searching for the Iguana, who, surprisingly, was on the floor. Realizing what had awoken him, he bent down to scoop the reptile up.

"Sorry, pal." Alex laid a pillow underneath the creature, before placing him on the couch.

The Green amphibian shot him a deeply annoyed look, before closing his eyes to doze off again. Another sharp pang of thirst made the urge to scavenge for water unmistakable.

To his surprise, Grinder was sitting at the compact metal table, bent over something that looked like the insides of a computer, poking at it with the smallest screwdriver Alex had ever seen. The sound of his shoes must have warned Grinder that he was coming down, as when he spoke next, he didn't even look up from his project.

"Hey, A-Man. Gimme a sec."

Alex said nothing, only sliding over to the tabletop. Dropping his form onto one of the long, padded benches and, resting his elbows uncomfortably on the table, he watched and waited.

Almost of their own accord, his eyes followed the dark fingers, blunt digits poking at the delicate machinery with a dextrosity and gentleness one wouldn't have expected. But Alex had known Grinder since they were children, and knew that behind the muscled physique lay a kindness and compassion as he had never encountered before.

"Done." The statement startled Alex, enough to make him flinch slightly. He watched mutely as Grinder slid the Whatever It Was into a plastic box, and tucked the screwdriver into his pocket. Looking up into Alex's eyes, Grinder mirrored his pose, leaning over the table and resting his elbows on it.

"Well, you've got my full on attention." There was a hint of knowing in Grinder's dark eyes.

Alex frowned. Something wasn't quite right here. "Do you know what this is about?"

Now it was the Englishman's turn to frown, although in his case, it was in contemplation. "Half of it, yes. And the other half I have my suspicions about."

Alex was confused. Grinder's wording made no sense in the context of Him And Fidget. "What do you mean, _half_ of it?"

A dark eyebrow raised. "I didn't expect Rikki to tell you, but I had thought you would have figured it out by now."

Alex didn't like where this was heading. "Figured _what_ out?"

Grinder sighed, and, in a rare gesture of nerves, ran a hand through his hair. "Half of a lot of things. But I suppose it would be best if you started off with your story." At Alex's look, he continued. "It will make it easier that way."

Knowing that there was nothing for it, Alex took a deep breath and started. It was a bit odd, really. He had expected it to tell it in stutters and stops, letting the tale meander every-which-way until Grinder gently prompted him back to the point. But it was not so. He told it astonishingly logically, surprising himself, in a dreamy, distant tone that seemed at odds with the directness of the tale. He watched Grinder's face through it, but it stayed blank, and Alex was never very good at reading the subtle lines on faces anyway. By the time he was done, Grinder was looking steadily at him, with something that looked a great deal like empathy.

"So?" he asked, after a long pause.

Grinder brought his hands to his face, rubbing silently. Unnerved by the action of his usually unflappable pilot, Alex quietly watched. Letting his hands drop to the table, again, grinder looked up into Alex's eyes, a distress in them that rather frightened him.

"I think," Grinder said softly, "that it would be better if you heard the other half from me. We _have_ gotten ourselves in mess, and it would be better for everyone involved to have all the information available."

Now Alex's curiosity had peaked, and he did nothing but nod, prompting Grinder to speak.

The Englishman sighed and lowered his gaze to the tabletop. "The night you kissed Fidget… Rikki and I… we… made love, that night."

The first thing he felt was astonishment. Of all the things he had expected, this was the least of them. And, just as suddenly, he felt a flash of righteous anger. "Even when you knew he was with Fidget?" It was a curt demand.

Grinder's long, dark lashes suddenly flicked up, his slightly blurry chocolate gaze resting on him. There was a steady emotion in them he couldn't place. "You told me what happened between you and Fidget earlier. It was like that. Like we just… connected. You can understand how I feel." Now there was a wordless plea in his eyes. "You know you can."

And it was just that. He did.

He understood how this treasured, secret love had burned within the both of them, a love that was never to be returned. How it ate at them both, how their friendship wasn't enough, not nearly enough.

__

Ironic, really.

And for the first time, he realized how unfair this was to Rikki, and what, exactly Grinder had done.

"You told Fidget. About the two of you." It really wasn't a question, but Grinder answered anyway.

"Yes." And Alex felt a wave of pride for his friend, in the way the brown eyes met his straight on, in the set jaw and in the determined mouth.

"It wasn't fair to any of us to keep things like this secret from one another."

And he knew that also. But there was one thing that worried him.

When Fidget had stormed in to Rikki's office, she had been angry, fiercely so. The idea that she would hold onto this…Well, as hot-tempered and fierce as Fidget was, he was _sure_ she would come to forgive them all in time. She _had_ to. The idea that their friendship would end was unbearable.

"You need to talk to her," Grinder said. "You don't have any other choice right now."

"I could run away," Alex snapped, suddenly defensive.

"But you won't," Grinder returned calmly. "She's down in the hold." And just like that, Grinder got up and wandered off.

Alex sat there for a time, frozen. He was never good with confrontation; he would just screw everything up; he didn't know what to say.

He had no choice.

"Well, _shit._"

TBC


	6. VI

__

CHAPTER 6

The hold was dim when he stepped down into it; he could make out the vague shapes of cars and crates, but everything was cast in a grayish gloom. He could, however, see the outline of a human shape, sitting on a tarp, below a hatch.

She wasn't crying; he could tell that much, but the silence unnerved him as much as hysteria would have. He hovered awkwardly, unsure of how to approach her, and jumped at the sudden sound of her voice in the quiet.

"Come in, Alex." He had never heard Fidget use that tone before; quiet, sad, and utterly exhausted.

Seemingly without his consent, his legs obeyed her command, sliding him over to where she was sitting on the ground. Her shoulders were hunched over, and her arms wrapped around her knees. She wasn't looking at him, but at a place over his shoulder.

"Sit down."

He did that as well, lowering himself beside her. For a moment they simply sat in silence; Alex could tell Fidget was gathering her thoughts, and he looked away from her. He didn't dare start this conversation; it would be wrong of him to take control right now; besides, his mind had gone strangely blank.

He was relieved when she took a deep breath and started speaking. "You should know that I will do my best to make sure we all remain friends after this." He looked over at her and smiled, but she was staring straight ahead, and didn't see it.

"I don't think any of us meant for this to happen, and I'm sorry that I had any part in it at all. I had no intention of forcing anyone into an uncomfortable position, least of all you. I didn't see this coming." She gasped again, and Alex held his tongue, instinctively knowing he was not welcome to speak.

"I'd like to pretend that everything worked out fine, and that everything's alright now, but it's going to take a while to heal the rifts in out friendship." Here she paused. "You should know that I am going to try." She squirmed uncomfortably, and glanced nervously at his face. "I… I love you all, and I don't want to loose you."

Alex smiled at her again. "I know."

"I think we're all very confused at the moment, and lots of things need to be worked out."

Alex nodded. There was still that one subject being hedged around, and he sensed that if he didn't bring it up, she wouldn't either. But he _had_ to know. "What about Rikki?"

Her eyes watched his face for a moment, and he felt suddenly threatened. But the look vanished and her lips curved upwards. "I… feel hurt by what he did –and I know he's hurt by what _I_ did. And it kind of makes us feel… connected still. I don't know. I'm really happy for him at the same time, though. But… betrayal like that _stings_."

Alex was confused, but he nodded. "He didn't mean to hurt you; no more than you meant to hurt him."

"I know, I just…" Her eyes flicked up to his face. "I though that he could trust me, you know? I thought that he'd tell me if there were something wrong." She swallowed. "I mean, we weren't perfect, but I thought we were doing alright."

"Well…" He didn't know what to say. "Maybe it just wasn't meant to be." The words felt flat and awkward, but Fidget smiled slightly.

"Maybe." She paused, and stared at him for a long moment. He twitched, and sensed that she was about to speak about what had happened the night before. It seemed like eons ago, in this quiet little room. He swallowed, and steeled himself. No more running.

"And you… You think that _we're _meant to be, don't you?" It wasn't really a question, but Alex felt compelled to answer it.

"I feel like I've loved you forever."

She smiled slightly again, but her eyes were calm and cool. "I believe you… but I'm not sure I feel the same."

That was nothing less than what he had been expecting, but it bit into him nonetheless. Maybe a little part of him had been hoping she'd simply throw herself into his arms, insist that she'd loved him always and forever, and promptly shove her tongue down his throat. Stupid, he knew; but he was a romantic.

He forced his numb lips to move. "I think I knew that too. But… I have to know; is there any chance at _all…?_"

She eyed him sadly. "I don't know right now."

They sat in silence, but it was comfortable silence; thoughtful quiet. Her voice, when it came, startled him.

"Look, Alex. I'm going away for a bit. We've nowhere to be, and I need some time for myself for a while, to think things through."

And that was a bit of a surprise as well; it had never occurred to him that _she_ was going to run away, like he wanted to do. But, right now, the thought of her leaving wasn't despairing in the slightest. He knew, without asking, that she'd be back, and stronger than ever before. Besides, he knew he needed to do some thinking of his own.

She smiled again. "I'm going to see my sister; spend a week or two with my folks. Nothing radical." Here she paused again, and smirked mischievously. "And when I get back, I expect to see a brilliant plan to win me over, heart and head."

He was still chuckling when they climbed the stairs up to the cabin together.

XXXXXXXXXX

All of them went to the Airport to see Fidget off; Grinder grinning and laughing at Fidget's surly complaints about traveling by commercial plane; Rikki smiling shyly and making pleasant, but distant comments; and Alex attempting to treat her like the friend that she was. The entire transaction felt oddly forced; they were parting on decent enough terms, but abstract issues seemed to lurk just below their conversation. It was rather disquieting; watching one another closely, and looking for the slightest allusions in speech.

But the strangest thing of all was dark in Fidget's eyes: fear. In all the years he had known Fidget Wilson, he had never seen her afraid of anything. What scared him though, was the fact that he didn't know what she was afraid _of_.

Being trapped? Being abandoned?

He wasn't sure in the slightest, and something in the way she was holding her shoulders –protective of herself—told him he wasn't going to find out until she was ready to tell him. He had to be patient; he had to be generous; he had to wait.

And as he watched her bored the plane, he knew she was something worth waiting for.

END


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